


hearts are made to bend

by quinnking



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F, minor infidelity, post-ocean's 8, pre-ocean's 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnking/pseuds/quinnking
Summary: “See you around, Tam-Tam.”Tammy gives her a small smile before walking out the door, completely oblivious to the men who stare after her.Debbie stares, too.
Relationships: Debbie Ocean/Tammy, Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean/Tammy, Tammy & Lou Miller, background Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean - Relationship, references to Claude Becker/Debbie Ocean
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	hearts are made to bend

**Author's Note:**

> well, hello. this has been nagging at me for the past couple of weeks so i wrote it. i hope you enjoy it. (not beta'd or anything, so all errors are from my dumb brain and my dumb brain alone)
> 
> come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/finalsgirI) and [tumblr](https://regina-king.tumblr.com/), i don't bite!

_someone gives me love and i throw it all away, tell me, have I gone insane?_

* * *

Debbie shuffles from foot to foot, looking down at her watch anxiously. She looks at the man beside her, squinting. “Where is this so-called ‘amazing fence’ you’ve promised me?” 

He chuckles. “She’s always late. Don’t worry. She’ll come.”

Debbie doesn’t know this man well, doesn’t care to. He’s just an acquaintance of Danny’s who’s with her to get a job done.

“We’ve been waiting for  — “ she’s cut off by a mess of blonde hair and the scent of… what is that, flowers?

“Sorry I’m late,” the woman says  — no, the  _ girl, _ she’s  —

“You’re kidding me. This is the fence you’ve been talking up? She’s an infant.”

The girl looks affronted, mouth dropping open. 

“Debbie,” the guy says, incredulous. “She’s 23, she’s good at what she does.” 

Twenty three.  _ Twenty fucking three.  _ God. 

“She better be,” she mutters after a moment, not sparing the blonde a glance as she heads inside the makeshift warehouse.

And… well, she was. She was amazing, actually. The best fence she’s ever seen, much less had with her for a job. Which, actually, makes her a little angry because she’s so good at reading people, or so she thought, and she’s not used to getting it wrong  — but she smiles close-lipped at her anyway and holds her hand out. 

“Debbie Ocean,” she says, like it means something. Maybe it does.

“Tammy.” She grasps Debbie’s hand in her own, shakes daintily. 

She’s very, very pretty, Debbie concludes, in a fragile and preppy sort of way. And she’s good at what she does, so before she can think too much about it she asks, “what do you say about joining our team?”

“Your team?” 

“Yeah.” 

Tammy has a bit of pink tinged on the top of her cheekbones, but she tilts her chin up. “I thought I was too much of an infant.”

Debbie snorts. “You’re an infant  _ and  _ a good fence,” she says, not unkindly.

“Where is the rest of your team? I had the feeling that you preferred to work alone.”

“Sometimes team work pays off,” Debbie responds, eyes narrowing. “Yes or no, Tam-Tam.”

If Tammy’s surprised (or annoyed, like Debbie would be if someone called her something like that) at the nickname, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she shrugs up one shoulder, but there’s something in her eyes that tells Debbie she’s actually excited. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” Debbie repeats, a small, more genuine smile pulling at the edges of her lips. “Let’s go get a drink.” 

“Sure,” Tammy says, with a smile that lights up her whole face. 

So, they do. They grab a drink. A few, actually. Chat over peanut shells and the smell of craft beer, laugh and talk and talk  _ and talk.  _ And, well, Debbie enjoys herself. 

The bar is tinted yellow and it makes Tammy glow. Debbie can’t stop staring, at the way her throat bobs when she takes a swig of her beer, the way her perfect waved hair is slightly less perfect than earlier in the day, the way  —

Tammy catches her staring, tilts her head, asks, “what?” 

Debbie continues to look, not at all ashamed she’d been caught. Feeling further enabled, she puts her hand on Tammy’s knee. 

“You’re not at all what I expected.”

Tammy looks down at Debbie’s hand, then at Debbie’s face, eyes flickering down to her lips.

“And what did you expect?”

Debbie hears a voice in the back of her head, one that tells her _ kiss her, do it, ruin her, mess her up a little.  _ But she ignores it. 

“Someone older,” she jokes, removing her hand and allowing the tone to shift and settle. 

Tammy gives a small laugh, eyes a little dazed from being tipsy. 

“You’re not that much older than me.” 

“I’m old enough,” Debbie tells her. She doesn’t say how much. She is right, she’s only got about 8 years on Tammy but that’s more than enough. More years in this business is better than less.

Tammy just narrows her eyes but doesn’t reply to that, takes another swig of her beer, shifting in her seat. Their knees bump. 

“So, being a part of your team… what does that mean, exactly? You were so incredibly vague.” 

“It means, when I need a fence, I’ll have you at my disposal.”

Tammy nods. “Alright.” She grabs a napkin, goes into her bag and writes a mess of digits. “Here. My work phone.” She takes one last drink from her beer, hops off the stool. 

Debbie stares at it for a moment before pocketing it.

“See you around, Tam-Tam.”

Tammy gives her a small smile before walking out the door, completely oblivious to the men who stare after her. 

Debbie stares, too.   


* * *

They do more jobs together. Go out for drinks. Have dinner. Become  _ friends. _

Debbie isn’t used to having friends. Any kind. Of any variety. She has Danny, she has coworkers, she has acquaintances that help her on jobs as favours or because they have worked well together in the past. But not friends. Now… she has one, found one in her teammate.

Debbie thinks she’s easy to talk to. She’s  _ funny _ , which is not something that you’d think she’d be just from meeting her. All prim and proper, with her turtlenecks and thick sweaters and mom jeans. But she has a wicked sense of humour and she knows how to give as good as she gets. 

And, she’s beautiful. But that… everyone can see that. Debbie isn’t special for noticing that. Anyone with eyes can notice her beauty, even if she herself doesn’t, which is as frustrating as it is interesting. 

But regardless of all of these things, regardless of all the other shit she might feel (she doesn’t, thank you), she’s her  _ friend. _ They’re friends. 

So, naturally, she has to ruin it. 

They’re in her apartment having a drink after another successful job. (They’re always successful when Tammy is involved.) 

She reaches out, touches the end of Tammy’s wavy hair. It’s long, to her rib cage, frames her face in a way that makes Debbie’s stomach coil. She really has a thing for hair.

Tammy just stares back at her, unwavering. Almost daring her to make a move, and, well, Debbie has never been able to say no to a challenge. 

Debbie takes the bait, leans forward and presses her lips to Tammy’s. She tastes like whiskey and peanut butter, she thinks, as Tammy’s mouth opens under hers.

Her hands go up until they’re in Tammy’s hair. She tugs a little, shifts back and hauls Tammy forward until the blonde is in her lap. Tammy makes a noise in the back of her throat, one that makes Debbie feel all kinds of feral. Their lips are moving harshly together, Debbie nipping at Tammy’s bottom lip to get her to open up, up, up and  — there it is. 

She licks into Tammy’s mouth, feeling the blonde melt into her, pressing her whole body down until they’re flush and so close, and Tammy pulls away, panting. Debbie still has a grip on her hair, though, and pulls until her neck is exposed to her like an offering. She noses her way under her jaw, smells that perfume that she swears she can smell in her sleep and at night when she’s feeling particularly lonely. She flattens her tongue on the spot, tasting her skin, a tangy mix of the perfume and her sweat. 

Debbie can feel Tammy’s pulse hammering against her tongue and the power she feels is so heady. She bites down with her incisors, gently, until Tammy’s hips swivel down onto hers. 

“Like pain, Tam-Tam?” 

The teasing would probably hit a lot different if Debbie wasn’t as breathless as she was, but, well. She has a beautiful blonde criminal in her lap. She’s only human. 

Tammy doesn’t respond, Debbie isn’t even sure she registered what was said, brings their lips back together, kissing her even harder than before. She’s wearing a floral dress, down to her knees, but right now the only thing between Debbie’s bare skin and Tammy’s is Tammy’s underwear and Debbie’s jeans, and that’s all she can think of, as Debbie’s hands leave their place in those blonde locks and down to a milky thigh, creeping higher and higher until —

Tammy gasps, a pretty little noise so delicate that Debbie needs more of it. She somehow finds the will to get Tammy up and off of her, walks her backward toward the bedroom at the far end of the loft, their mouths not parting even once until they fall down onto the bed together. Tammy giggles as Debbie undresses her hastily, wanting to see what she has on underneath. Which isn’t very much. 

Debbie brings Tammy to a rushed orgasm, with the blondes legs bracketing her ears and her hands bunched in the sheets below her. She licks her lips a couple times, the taste of her still coating her mouth, until Tammy brings Debbie up by the collar of her shirt and kisses her, quite filthily, tasting herself on Debbie’s tongue. 

Tammy doesn’t bother with undressing Debbie, which is fine for her, because she pops the button on Debbie’s pants and slips her hand inside. 

Debbie had thought that maybe, just maybe, Tammy hadn’t been with a woman before but she was very wrong if how quickly she gets Debbie off was any indication. 

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss, until Tammy pulls away panting, leaning against the pillows and watching Debbie with hooded eyes. She looks thoroughly messed up, hair all frazzled and makeup streaked. She’s never looked more attractive to Debbie.

“You know,” Tammy says after a moment. “I didn’t think you were interested.” 

Debbie doesn’t really know how to respond to that, the feeling of something shifting and sitting on top of her chest. So she doesn’t say anything back, just leans over and kisses her. 

“I’m going to go run a shower. You can come with me if you want.” 

* * *

So, now they’re friends, coworkers and fuck buddies. This is going to work out great. 

* * *

She meets Lou a couple of years into it, when she’s borderline mid-30s and Tammy is still young, so young. Lou, who is the perfect opposite to Tammy. Who knows too much for her own good, who knows Debbie too damn well.

They share a loft, and one night when Lou is supposed to be out on a date, she catches Debbie in the kitchen, smelling like Tammy’s perfume, in front of the stove and making Tammy’s favourite after-sex snack. 

Lou kisses her on the neck, says, “you should have put a sock on the door.” 

Debbie turns the best she can and gives her a look. “I didn’t think you’d be home. You never come home early when you’re on a date,” she points out. 

Lou acquiesces. “Date was a bust. She started crying about her ex girlfriend ten minutes into it and I’m all for the rebound but it was just sad. I gave her a cigarette and drove her home.” She has her chin resting on Debbie’s shoulder, arms around her waist.

Debbie is about to respond, say something clever and snarky and flirty about how Lou is a true gentleman, when Tammy comes into the kitchen, wearing one of Debbie’s long button-up shirts. It doesn’t cover much, but enough so that she isn’t completely indecent. 

“Oh, sorry,” Tammy stammers, a dark red coating her face and neck. “I didn’t realize —” 

“It’s all good, Tam-Tam,” Debbie says, flipping the grilled cheese and hearing it sizzle in the pan. It smells good, almost good enough to mask Tammy’s scent from Debbie’s nose. “I’m making your favourite. Why don’t you get us three glasses of water, hmm?” 

Tammy looks confused for a moment before nodding, her fingers knotted together in front of her. Debbie can see the tell-tale signs of Tammy having an internal conflict in her head. 

To be fair to Tammy, though, they had never discussed  _ this.  _ It was pretty much unspoken that Debbie and Lou lived together, had something going on, whatever that entails. Debbie thinks that maybe Tammy never thought she’d see it.

She hears the water run, hears Tammy’s bare feet on the floor as she goes back and forth to set the glasses on the kitchen table before sliding herself into a seat. She doesn’t look at Debbie or Lou, instead she wraps her hands around her glass and stares into it. She doesn’t even look up when Debbie sets the plate down in front of her. Or when Lou and Debbie both sit on either side of her.

Tammy only looks up after a few moments of silence, while Lou and Debbie are both looking at her expectantly and honestly, Debbie doesn’t like this—she isn’t sure what’s going to happen next.

“I’ve never been in this position before,” Tammy says after a second, pulling the halves of her grilled cheese apart. She offers a half to Lou, who takes the bite straight from Tammy’s hand. Tammy bites in after her, and Debbie takes the other half and devours it. 

“What position is that?” Lou asks, gently, genuinely inquiring. 

Tammy takes a gulp of water, swallows it audibly. “I’m from a small town,” she tells them. “I’ve never seen… this. Where I come from, if you screw somebody who has a significant other, you get shot with a hunting rifle.” 

Debbie and Lou both laugh out loud at that. What a Tammy thing to say. 

“It’s not like it was a secret,” Lou reminds her. When Tammy opens her mouth to speak, Lou stops her by putting her hand on top of Tammy’s. “No, listen. Debbie and I are separate from you and Debbie. Just as what I do with other people is separate from what I do with Debbie. Just like how  _ our  _ friendship is separate from Debbie.” 

Tammy’s eyebrows knit together. “I’ve never dealt with something like this before,” she says, and Debbie can see the frustration growing. 

“So, crime doesn’t scare you, but polyamory does?” Debbie jokes. Or, tries to. It doesn’t land well, with two sets of eyes turning on her unhappily. She raises her hands up in defence. “I’m sorry, bad joke.” She swears she sees Tammy’s mouth quirk, but she doesn’t say anything. 

“Does this make you jealous?” Lou asks Tammy, their hands still clasped together, and Debbie watches Tammy’s face. 

It’s pretty impassive. Well, for Tammy, it’s impassive. “No,” she answers after a moment. “No, I’m not jealous. I wouldn’t have continued to sleep with Debbie if I was jealous. Everyone knows about you two. I just—” She bites the inside of her lip, deliberating. “I never thought I’d be caught here, you know? Like, in my head, it was easier to rationalize and understand when Lou and I brushed by each other instead of her seeing me half naked in your kitchen after…” 

Debbie bites her tongue, or else she’d be making a crude remark like,  _ after I made you cry from over-sensitivity  _ or  _ after I had you tied to my bed frame with your own silk scarves?  _ Yeah, now is not the time. 

She doesn’t continue talking, instead looks down at her hand in Lou’s. 

“I don’t really know how to do this?”

It’s not phrased as a question, and it’s not meant to be, but it certainly sounds like one. 

“We’ve been doing it,” Debbie says, her voice taking on that gentle note that it only does with Tammy. For some fucking reason. “There’s no love triangle. No epic fight to the death over a girl. We’re all consenting adults.” 

Consenting adults who have no idea how to communicate with each other, mind you. 

“If this is too disconcerting for you, Tam-Tam, there’ll be no hard feelings.” The way Debbie’s heart drops into her stomach says otherwise, but whatever, no one has to know. 

(Although, glancing at Lou, Debbie has the sneaking suspicion she does.) 

“It’s just confronting,” Tammy mutters, playing with Lou’s fingers idly. Debbie likes seeing that. “But that doesn’t mean I think we should stop…” 

“Fucking?” 

Tammy gives Debbie a glare, although there’s absolutely no heat. “Yeah.” 

“Face it, Tam-Tam, you’ll never find another like me.”

Tammy’s mouth turns up into a small smile. 

“You’re good enough to keep me around for four years, I’ll give you that.” 

Debbie touches her hand to her heart. “I’m touched, really.” 

There’s a silence, more comfortable than it has been, when Tammy starts to rise. “I’m going to take a quick shower and head home,” she says, backing her chair up, scraping against the wood floor. 

“You don’t have to,” Lou promises. “We have separate bedrooms. Just like normal roommates.” 

Tammy deliberates for a moment before finally saying, “it  _ is  _ late.” 

“Yes it is, honey,” Lou says, giving Debbie a wink when Tammy turns. 

“Okay. I can take Debbie’s bed if—” 

“Honey, no, you two have fun. I’m just going to read and go to sleep.” 

“Old lady,” Debbie mumbles under her breath, earning her a kick in the shin. She smiles sweetly back at Lou. “Go get in the shower. I’ll join you after I put the dishes in the sink.” 

Tammy looks between them and, for a second, Debbie thinks she may decline. But instead she just nods and walks off toward Debbie on-suite. 

“Be careful with that one,” Lou says, ominously, as she tucks the glasses into each other and grabs the plate, bringing them to the sink. 

“I’m always careful.” 

That earns her a swat to the shoulder. 

“I see how you look at her, Debs. Be careful.” 

“I’m not going to hurt her.” 

“You better not,” Lou warns. “I do like her, very much.” 

Debbie feels a little bit of guilt. The same guilt she felt years ago after they’d slept together for the first time. “So do I.” 

“I know.” 

* * *

They continue on like this for just over a year. It’s good, it works and Debbie thinks that maybe, maybe, the happy life she thought she’d never get is within grasp. 

Until… until Tammy leaves. 

“I met someone,” she says, as if that explains it. Maybe it does. “He’s… he wants a family.” 

“You’re leaving because of a man?” Debbie replies, tone flat. It doesn’t come out how she means it, Lord knows Debbie still sleeps with men who catch her eye. But that she’s leaving… this, them, the  _ team _ because of a man? 

Tammy looks at her, wide-eyed and sad. “No.” She’s standing in front of Debbie, takes her hand. Debbie doesn’t shoo her away. “I want out. He’s a way out. We both know I can’t quit the line of work  _ and  _ keep you. You’re a package deal.” 

Debbie stays silent. She honestly never saw  _ this _ coming, and she certainly never thought that she’d actually be upset. (She always knew it would come, always knew it’d hurt, but she’s not going to admit that to herself or anyone.)

“I’m sorry, Deb,” Tammy whispers, quiet. She brings Debbie’s hand to her lips, kisses each knuckle before dropping it. 

Just before Tammy gets out of earshot, Debbie asks, “how long?” 

Tammy turns to her, a look of confusion on her face. 

“What?”

“How long ago did you meet him?” 

Tammy looks at Debbie, sympathetic, and Debbie  _ hates  _ that. Wants to stomp on it, bury it. 

“A few months ago.” 

Debbie laughs humourlessly. A few months ago. When she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t reply, Tammy just gives her one last look and turns, the door snicking closed quietly behind her. 

* * *

It’s been about four months since Tammy left, and she and Lou are going through something difficult, made worse when Lou tells her that Tammy has gotten married. 

Of course, she knew that Tammy and Lou still kept in touch. But she had no idea Lou was at the wedding. They were still  _ that _ close. 

“She looked beautiful,” Lou says, quietly. 

“She always did.” 

* * *

Enter Claude Becker. Debbie and Lou have only gotten rockier, constant arguing, a lot of disagreements about jobs. And then Debbie meets… Claude Becker. 

She’s beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, team-work isn’t for her after all. And in 2008, who didn’t only think about themselves, right? Especially selfish 35 year old women who just want to play the long con. 

He’s handsome. His hustle was simple but efficient. She could make this easier on him, get them double, triple, the wages they’re both currently earning. 

And if she falls for him, well, that’s her own stupidity, isn’t it? 

So, when she winds up in jail because he pins everything on her, she’s not surprised. Deep down she’s not. On the surface, she’s a bundle of rage and anger, but underneath… he’s a snake, and she should have always seen it coming. 

* * *

Lou’s there for her when she gets out. As if everything that transpired between them never happened, and Debbie is so thankful that Lou is this type of person, even if she knows damn well she doesn’t fucking deserve it.

They almost have their team. Almost have it, millions of dollars right in front of their faces, and all they need is a fence, and they’re looking and looking until  —

“What about Tammy?” 

It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed her mind. It has. But last time she tried to contact Tammy, she’d been rebuffed. But… well, hey, she’s in her garage and she’s not going away, so she might as well try. She finds a bowl of lollipops, steals one.

Tammy answers immediately, says, “Debbie, I am with my family, I told you not—” 

“I’m outside,” Debbie cuts her off. 

“What?” 

“I’m in your garage.” 

She hears Tammy sigh, then hang up, and seconds later… she’s in the garage with Debbie. 

“Deb?” she hears Tammy whisper, loudly. 

“Hmm?” 

“Deb, what are you doing here? I thought you were in jail.”

She pulls the lollipop she’s sucking on out of her mouth to respond, “Mmm, I got out.” Tammy walks closer to her. “Look at all this. I thought you retired.”

“I did.” 

Bullshit. This garage is a whole  _ store _ . 

“Not as exciting as hijacking trucks that are smuggling dishwashers from Canada, right?” She walks closer to Tammy, forcing the blonde to back up. She feels kind of predatory. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t do that anymore, so.” 

“But you were so very good at it.” 

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.” She looks  _ good _ . “So, these are all for personal use?” 

Tammy stops backing up for a moment, holds her ground to snap, “what do you want?” 

Debbie shrugs. “Just wanna… just wanna reconnect.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Reconnect?” 

“Mmhmm.”

Debbie’s moving forward again, forcing Tammy back until she hits a box. 

“You’re not bored out here, are you, Tam-Tam?” It’s mean, she admits it, but… well, who gives a fuck at this point, right? 

“No, I’m not bored out here at all.” Come  _ on _ , Tammy. You can lie better than that. 

“Good, good.”

“No. W-why would you ask that?” 

“‘Cause I need a fence.” 

It registers, hits, making Tammy’s eyes squint ever so lightly, and it looks glorious. 

“Well, I told you I don’t do that anymore. I’m out.” 

“It’s a big job.” 

Debbie gets closer as Tammy says, “I don’t care.” 

“Do you want me to tell you how big of a job it is?” 

“No, no I  _ really  _ don’t.” 

“I think I’m gonna tell you how big the job is.” 

She leans in, gets so close that she can smell Tammy, her senses overloaded with memory of that perfume. She whispers the number. 

Tammy looks surprised. “Are you kidding?” 

“No.” 

There’s a moment of tension, before, “Mommy!”

“Shit!” Tammy whispers, and Debbie has the sense to move and hide. 

“When’s dinner ready?” 

“Uh, sweetheart, I will be right there. I’m so sorry. Mommy will be right there.”

Tammy turns to her, quick, mouthing to her, “be quiet.”

Debbie plays innocent, and huh, this is amusing. She shuffles closer to Tammy, leans around her a little to see the little kid. 

“But I’m hungry!”

“I know, sweetheart. I - sweetheart, I promise I will be right there.” 

Tammy pushes her hand over Debbie’s mouth, flailing about a little. 

The kid gets the hint, goes back inside. Tammy sags before turning to her, muttering, “thanks a lot.” 

“She sounds sweet.”

Tammy leans against the box, crossing her arms. Debbie takes the time to really look around before asking, “how do you explain all this to your husband?” 

“eBay?” 

Wow, men are fucking idiots. 

* * *

Tammy is still as good as she’s ever been, despite the years of retirement. She’s still exceptionally good at pretending to be someone she’s not, and she guesses that’s what Tammy does most of the time with her family anyway. 

They’re all richer. The heist was a massive success. They’re all friends. An actual team.

Debbie and Tammy are drinking again, and it feels like old times. Tammy is a little more wasted than she expects, and that’s probably because as a mom she never gets to let loose like this. 

She’s surprised, though, when Tammy blurts, “I’m divorcing my husband.” 

“Why?” 

Tammy shrugs. “It was good at first. And I love my kids. But he only cares about his job and having me on his arm to look good.” 

Idiot. Doesn’t he know what he has? 

“And now that I’m millions of dollars richer… well, I can afford to leave him and to take my part in looking after my kids.” 

Debbie nods, leans forward. Their legs are intertwined. Tammy smells so good, looks so good, and Debbie’s a little drunk and lacks her usual filter, so she says, “your codename was ‘the MILF.’” 

Tammy laughs, laughs so hard she snorts. “Who started  _ that _ ?” 

“Actually, Constance did.” 

“That checks out.” Tammy sets her glass on the table, rests her elbows on her knees. She’s so close, looks so pretty. “You know, I did miss you for the past decade. Sometimes… Lou would bring you up and something heavy would just settle in my chest.” 

That was glaringly honest and overwhelmingly confronting, and honestly, Debbie doesn’t know what to say. 

“My daughters middle name is Deborah,” she says quietly.

Debbie doesn’t know what to do with this information, just knows that her heart does this fluttery thing that makes her feel like she’s going to pass out. She can hear the blood pumping in her ears. 

“That’s awfully romantic,” Debbie whispers, more to herself than to Tammy, but Tammy hears her anyway, gives her a small smile. 

Tammy makes the move first, this time, pressing her lips against Debbie’s gently. Debbie doesn’t even think, she just reacts, fisting her hands in Tammy’s oversized mom-sweater and hauling her closer. She still tastes the same, feels the same, she still feels the same way about her even all these years later. 

They wind up naked in Debbie’s bed and hours later, Debbie’s curled around Tammy, her skin cooled from sweat and air. 

She’s kissing patterns around Tammy’s neck, loving when the other woman burrows deeper into the bed and makes these small little mewling noises. This is what being content feels like. 

“Where’s Lou?” Tammy asks, sleepily. 

“Somewhere in California, I’d imagine.” 

“You know, she tried for years to get me to come back to you. She said—” She cuts off, biting down on her lower lip. 

Well, now her curiosity is piqued. Debbie asks, “she said what?”

Tammy takes a breath, moves so that they are lying face-to-face. “She said that after I left something in you shifted. I blamed myself for you going to prison.”

“My stupidity isn’t anyone’s fault but mine,” Debbie says, with finality. “And fucking Claude Becker, but he got his. He’s where he belongs now.”

“And you?” Tammy’s fingers are dancing around Debbie’s back, as if memorizing. 

“Me, what?” 

“Are you where you belong?” 

Debbie inhales deep. “Yeah, yeah I think I am.” 

They’re silent for a few minutes, Tammy’s forehead resting on Debbie’s, eyes closed. 

“I’m sorry about Danny.” 

“Not even sure that bastard is dead anyway.”

Tammy opens her eyes, knits her brows together. She laughs loud, and happy. “I’m not even going to ask. I think it’s better if I don’t know.” 

They’re silent, again, until Debbie asks, “how long does your husband have the kids?” 

“He took them to his mother’s for two weeks in Florida. They’re at Disney.” 

“How do you feel about… Florence, Italy?” 

“I’ve never been.” There’s a smile playing at her lips. Coy. 

“I’m sure we could find something to do there. Bring the gang.” 

“Why, Deb,” Tammy says, mockingly, “look who’s become a real family-woman.” 

Debbie snorts. “Shut up. It could be fun. Europe is full of things to do.” 

“You mean things to  _ con _ .”

“Same difference.” She kisses Tammy on the mouth before rolling over, grabbing her phone from the bedside table. “Go shower. I have a trip to plan.” 

Watching Tammy walk across her bedroom and into the bathroom naked, seeing her group-chat with her new found family, Debbie wonders why the fuck she’d waited so long to get her act together and find people that make her happy? 

She hears the shower turn on, hears Tammy’s out-of-tune singing. Lou responds back with some emojis. 

“Deb, are you joining me or what?”

Debbie locks her phone, tosses it onto the bed. 

“Coming.” 


End file.
